L'amour est une Chose Drôle
by Dude13
Summary: Love is in the air for Foster's favorite eight year old! Unfortunately, that's not exactly the same picture some of the others are getting....[oneshot]


Originally, I started out with the idea of trying to come up with a Mac/Goo fic until I realized the horrible truth: I'm simply not good at writing romance.

However, I did try my best, and after fumbling around with this idea for a week or so, I somehow managed to come up with this. As usual, it takes place after the events in my duel-fic "More Than My Friend/Falling Apart."

Oh, and translated into English, "L'amour est une chose drôle" is supposed to mean "Love is a Funny Thing". Mind you, I stopped taking French a year ago, so my bad entirely if I did a poor job of translating.

Same drill as always! Please read and review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends

* * *

The Goo whom Mac knew was loud, obnoxious, far too-easily overstimulated, carried an annoyingly excess amount of boundless energy with her all hours of the day, not to mention the fact that she never seemed to know when to close her mouth sometimes. 

So why was it that Mac found himself putting the final touches on a Valentine's Day card addressed to the very same girl?

After adding one final touch, the boy leaned back to observe his handiwork. In reality, the entire concoction was little more than the usual mix of marker, glue, glitter, and some lace on a red paper heart. However, eight-year-old had put a momentous amount of effort into the project, working on it at a snail's pace for almost two hours to make sure every detail was perfect.

While momentarily bathing in the pride of his accomplishment, the inevitable thoughts began to cross his mind. What was it that had just forced him to complete such a feat? He certainly hadn't planned on doing anything of the sort when he had awoken that morning, and even until a few hours ago he hadn't given the idea so much as a moment's thought.

At best, the child pinpointed the moment of the change of heart to when _she_ had to leave for home that very afternoon, hardly very long ago at all..Did it happen right when she gave him that good-bye hug before exiting the house? Her arms draped tightly around his waist, a beaming smile plastered upon her features, throwing in the casual whispered reminder of the special occasion arriving on the morrow, how could he not-

Mac grabbed hold of his head and shook his skull fiercely, as if that would drive the strange thoughts from his mind. What was he _thinking_? Goo was his _friend_, that was all. This was nothing more than a pleasant token of _friendship_, celebrating nothing more than that _friendship_ which existed between them.

The boy sighed as he looked back upon his creation. So why exactly did he sign it "Love, Mac"?

The child's puzzled thoughts were abruptly interrupted when an azure blob strolled into the room and unceremoniously shoved a small paper bag in his face.

"Here you go, stud." Bloo said with a bit of a smirk. Mac glowered at his smug-faced imaginary friend.

"I though I told you to _stop_ calling me that." He protested bitterly. The little creature just persisted with a grin as he ribbed his friend playfully.

"Oh, so what would you prefer then? Mr. Big-Shot? Hot-Stuff? Your choice, lover-boy." He laughed, swiftly avoiding a badly aimed swipe from his creator.

"Bloo, knock it off, okay? I told you, this is for Goo as in "our friend Goo." Not my _girlfriend_!"

"Sure it is, buddy. Sure it is." Bloo replied with a secretive wink. "No need to tell me twice."

"Oooh, you're just lucky that I don't-_hey_!" Mac cried indignantly as he leafed through the bag.

"What is it?" Bloo asked, groaning loudly. "I went to the drugstore and got your stupid glue, what's wrong?"

"Yeah, I know." The boy replied, still searching furiously inside the bag's depths. "But where's my change? I give you a five to buy it, that was definitely _more_ than enough."

"Um, no it wasn't." Bloo immediately objected. Mac raised an eyebrow, glaring at his friend suspiciously.

"Since when is glue that expensive? The container's not very big." He protested.

"Hey, don't look at me." His imaginary friend responded defensively. "I blame it all on the economy, I mean, come on! Have you even seen the stock market lately?"

"Bloo, do you even know what the stock market is?" Mac counted, carefully eyeing the one arm the blob kept behind his back. Bloo meanwhile just rolled his eyes,

"Oh please, what do I look like, a scientist? All I know is that-_HEY_! Hey, give that back!" he squealed as Mac darted around him and snatched the concealed purchase with one deft movement. The child unfurled the rolled-up magazine, took one glance at it and gasped incredulously.

"_The Sport's Illustrated Swimsuit Edition_?" he cried in disbelief.

Bloo fidgeted about nervously, staring at the ground rather than making eye contact with his creator. "Um, no?"

"Yes it is!" Mac growled, waving it in his friend's face. "You spent my money so you could buy yourself a dirty magazine?"

"Maybe…" he replied meekly with a disarming smile.

"What on earth is wrong with you?" the eight-year-old cried angrily.

Bloo huffed in annoyance. "Oh c'mon, it's not like you freak out whenever Frankie's wearing _her_ bathing suit at the-"

"BLOOOOO!" Mac roared, throwing the magazine aside and making a dive for the upstart little blob.

"AUGH! You stay away from me!" Bloo yelled, turning tail and making a mad dash from the room.

"You get back here and give me back my three-fifty!" the child barked.

"Never! I regret nothing! You hear me? Nothing!" the little imaginary friend just cried heroically as they fled down the hallway.

* * *

"No running in the hallways! No running, I say!" 

His chastisement having no effect upon the pair as they disappeared around a corner, Mr. Herriman grumbled irritably as he hopped down the hall.

"Good gracious, is that really necessary? Honestly, the last thing I need are those two working my very last-OH MY WORD!" he howled as he glanced through an open door where a certain peculiar "something" caught his eye…

* * *

"… So what do you have to say about _this_, Miss Frances?" the rabbit bellowed, waving the seized contraband in the face of the young redheaded woman. Frances "Frankie" Foster rolled her eyes as she casually slouched in her seat. 

"Oh c'mon, Mr. H." she complained. "It's not like you freak out whenever I'm lounging by the pool in _my _bathing suit." She stated objectively.

"_Miss Frances_!" the elderly rabbit barked, slamming a fist down hard upon his desk. "This is _not_ the time for-"

"Okay, okay, cool it, will ya?" the girl sighed, motioning for him to settle down. "Can't you take a little joke?"

"Your impudence is no laughing matter, young lady." Mr. Herriman growled threateningly.

"Hey, I just-"

"Miss Frances, how can you possibly take the time for such tomfoolery right when we've discovered the existence of smut in our own household? In the room of _your _charge, nonetheless?" he demanded fiercely. "Why never in all my years have I-"

"I know, I know, I get it!" Frankie replied, throwing up in her arms in mock exasperation and eager to cut the lecture short as soon as possible. "Look, just gimme the stupid magazine, I'll go talk to the little guy as soon as I can, okay? Jeez Louise!"

However, as she as she got up to reach for the topic of discussion, Mr. Herriman promptly withdrew it out of range of her grasp, a pained expression marking his features.

"I'm sorry, Miss Frances, but I'm afraid that simply won't be sufficient." He said solemnly.

"Huh?" the redhead grunted, confused.

"He's right, dear." A familiar voice spoke from behind her. The girl whirled about to spot the petite elderly woman hobble into the room.

"Grandma?" she asked, the old lady's presence further bewildering her. "Wait, what-"

"Sit back down, Miss Frances." Mr. Herriman ordered her gently. Giving him a blank stare, the caretaker did as she was told.

"Am I missing something here?" she whimpered.

"No, it's just that….well, your grandmother and I spoke briefly prior to this meeting and we decided that…well, we came to the conclusion that…oh dear, how do I say this…" the old creature mumbled in a rare lack of assertion, wringing his paws nervously.

"After finding that in Mac's room, we just think now it's probably time for you to have a certain "talk" with the child, dear." Madame Foster gently interjected, patting her granddaughter's hands.

"But…but I just said I was going to go talk with Mac about-" Frankie protested.

"Not "a talk" with the boy. "_The_ Talk", Miss Frances." Mr. Herriman stated bluntly.

For a few seconds, the young woman chewed anxiously upon her lower lip, desperate trying to figure out what all the cryptic messages meant. Finally however, the bitter truth hit her full force like a log to the stomach.

"_WHAT_?" she yelped in dismay, almost tumbling from her chair in her shock.

"You heard us, dear." Her grandmother said, assuring the girl's worst fears.

"B-but….b-b-b-but…." She stammered stupidly, eyes rapidly bulging to the size of dinner rolls.

"I'm sorry, but we just thing it'd be for the best if you-" Mr. Herriman tried to explain.

"Hold on, just hold on a moment!" Frankie cried incredulously. "For Pete's sake, Mac's only eight years old! You want _me_ to describe the _facts of life_ to the little guy? _Now_?"

"It would be best if he heard it from you, Frankie." Madame Foster said softly. "You're the child's guardian, after all. And-"

"Okay, did you not just hear me five seconds ago?" Frankie cried. "I repeat, the kid is _eight_! Eight years old! Not twelve, not thirteen, not even ten! He's only _eight_!"

"But the thing is, Miss Frances," Mr. Herriman interjected anxiously, "We think that Master Mac's particular situation may be a bit, er…. _special_."

The redhead just stared at him blankly. "Yeah, I know that! The kid's only _eight_! What don't you get about-"

"No, no, dear, it's not that!" Madame Foster interrupted her. "What we mean is that….well, you're the boy's "big sister" as he prefers to call you."

"Yeah, and he's my little brother, and that makes you technically his grandmother too. Seriously, like that's big news to me right there." The caretaker snapped.

Mr. Herriman sighed heavily.

"But you see, the reason that we're so worried about the boy is that…. um, wasn't it not that long ago that Master Mac also had a bit of a…an "infatuation" with you, Miss Frances?"

Upon being reminded of the boy's short-lived crush on her, Frankie looked as if she wanted to keel over.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me." She murmured in total disbelief. "You're _not_ actually saying that-"

"We just want to make sure the child isn't confused, or anything." Mr. Herriman continued.

"Are you two _serious_?" the redhead shrieked, tugging furiously at her hair. "Are you actually suggesting that Mac still may be…oh, yuck! Just listen to yourselves! That's so awful!"

""Dear, please, it's just that-" Madame Foster tried to explain, taking the girl's hands into hers. Frankie just glared at he as she promptly ripped them away, waving her arms wildly in the air.

"Oh, come _on_! That crush he had on me was _nothing_! It lasted for like a week, tops! That was sooooo long ago! Mac's just my little brother now! Nothing more, noting less! L-I-T-T-L-E B-R-O-T-H-E-R! I understand that, and I'm almost ninety-nine percent positive he understands that! We've _family_, we've not…GROSS!" she grimaced, sticking out her tongue.

"Well it's not like we're too fond of thinking about that either!" Her grandmother huffed. "We just want to make the child doesn't grow up with his views a little skewed, that's all."

"GRANDMA!" Frankie yelled. "This is absolutely insane! Do I have to repeat myself until God knows when? He's my little brother, he's only eight, and he does not have any of _those_ kinds of feelings for me! Oh, sick, you guys! You're not honestly thinking that Mac actually….that he still….that he might actually…that M-M-Mac…." She trailed off, unable to get the words out in her horror.

"We'll leave you alone to mull over this for a bit." Mr. Herriman declared softly. With that he rose from his seat, gently took his creator by the hand, and together the two exited the office, leaving behind one very, very displeased young woman.

Frankie let out a long, aggravated groan as she let her head fall limply onto the desk in front of her.

"Someone _please_ shoot me."

* * *

"Here Goo, Happy Valentine's Day! Wait, no…..Happy Valentine's Day Goo, this is for you! No, no, that doesn't sound right either….okay, you can do this, you can do this…Happy V-Day, Goo!…blech, no way am I saying that…. Hi Goo, Merry Christma-_darn it_!" 

Muttering darkly under his breath, the child hurled the homemade valentine to the floor and glowered at his reflection in the mirror. What on earth was wrong with him? He had made the stupid paper heart, now all he had to do was give it to _her_ tomorrow. So how come he had just been practicing that vital part of the plan for half-an-hour, and he _still_ couldn't get it right? Make the card, then give it to person card was intended for, carrying out the plan should be just as simple as the basic idea itself.

Unfortunately, things never turn out as planned. As hard as Mac tried, each time he rehearsed the special moment, the results were always exactly the same; his little body would tense up stiffer than a metal pole, his heart would start pounding at such a furious rate it threatened to burst from his chest, and his voice would be reduced to a hoarse squeak barely audible to the human ear.

Worse than all of those combined, however, was the dark feeling that would well up inside his stomach with every attempt he tried to imitate tomorrow's special plan. It wasn't just the usual sensation of a flock of butterflies in his belly, or a little nausea. Oh, how Mac wished so badly it was just as mild as that. No, every time he thought of placing the simple paper token into the hands of the girl who refused to leave his thoughts, it would always feel like someone would tightly grab his stomach with a rusty metal clamp. Then, while clasping on tightly to his gut, this invisible clamp would twist and twist until the child felt like he wanted to vomit everything that he ate in the past three years.

Mac sat himself on the floor and moaned wearily as he mulled over his paradox. How could he experience such awful sensations when it was all for the quirky little girl who gave him such a blissful feeling of warmth inside whenever she would give him a friendly hug, flash him that big toothy grin of hers…and the way she always wore her hair in those cute pigtails….and that special manner in which she…

_SLAP!_

"OUCH!"

The boy squealed in pain as he smacked himself hard upon the cheek. Not again! What in the world was wrong with him? He just had to get a grip! What was he so worried about? This was nothing, hardly a difficult issue at all! Tomorrow, he was going to take this simple _paper heart_ and give it to his _friend_, just out of appreciation for the company she provided. Nothing more, nothing less! Yes, that was it! That's all he was doing for that weird, quirky girl. That sweet, lovable, funny, cute little gir-

Mac groaned in aggravation and slammed his head against the wall with a loud _thud_. How come no one told him love was so confusing? He needed help, and he needed it _fast_.

Unfortunately, due to the fact that he lived in a house with such "interesting" characters, there was only one resident whom he felt could hopefully clear up this mystery to him.

* * *

"Frankie?" he piped up curiously, peeking into the room. 

The young woman yelped in surprise, swiftly whirling around in her swivel chair.

"Huh? What? Oh, it's only _you_." She muttered, eyeing him a little bit cautiously. "What do you want, pal?"

"Frankie?" he asked innocently.

"Yeah?" she responded, still glaring at him a little warily.

"Um, can I ask you a question?"

At this Frankie's eyes widened in surprise. Praying desperately that it was anything but one particular subject, she managed to reply,

"Er…sure. What do you have in mind?"

"Is it okay if I ask you something about girls?"

Immediately the boy leapt back a little in surprise as the young woman almost tumbled from her chair in her shock.

"_What_?" Frankie gasped breathlessly, her skin rapidly paling in shade. "You want to ask me? _Now_?"

"I…well, yeah but….all I want is…I…" Mac stuttered dumbly, taken aback by her panicked behavior.

"Oh, no, oh no!" she cried to herself, rubbing her temples vigorously. "I thought I had more time! I thought that I-"

"Sorry, sorry!" Mac blurted out profusely in apology, upset by her distress. "I didn't mean-"

"No, no, please!" Frankie cried, waving her arms. "It's not you, it's just that-"

"No, it's okay, it's okay!" Mac replied meekly, slowly edging back towards the door. "If this isn't a good time or anything I can just leave-"

Frankie motioned for him to stop, sighing painfully. "No, I gotta do this, and I gotta do it _now_."

Unfortunately, Mac had absolutely no say in the final matter, as the moment she had finished speaking, the girl got up from her seat and scooped the boy into her arms with ease. Holding him tightly in her grip, Frankie settled herself down upon her bed and plopped him gently onto her lap. Unable to escape her firm hold, the bewildered eight-year-old could only sit in place and watch the bizarre spectacle unfold.

Frankie paused for a few moments, taking in deep, heavy breaths to compose herself. After a good minute of this, she gazed down at the child solemnly and began.

"Mac…." She said softly, ruffling his hair with one hand. "I think it's clear that you may have already started to see that there are…well, "differences" between boys and girls."

Mac cocked an eyebrow, unsure of where she was going with this. "Differences?"

The girl cracked a weak smile.

"That's right, pal, differences."

"Oh." The child replied calmly. As he sat patiently on her lap, Frankie's mind raced furiously. Thinking that he was waiting for her to give him an example, she strove to come up with something appropriate for the situation.

"Well, um, you see, pal, uh…er… you know how…wait, no…. Remember that time when…when….you…ummmm….Mac, do you remember that time you accidentally saw me getting out of the shower?" she finally blurted out.

"_What_?" Mac gasped, eyes bulging in shock.

"Oh, wait, no!" Frankie grumbled, slapping her forehead with an aggravated groan. "That wasn't what I wanted to say! I mean that….it's just that… arrrgh!"

"Well what are you trying to say then?" Mac demanded warily, pulling a face. The redhead hugged him a little closer as she gazed upon him pleadingly.

"Pal, just hear me out here. Okay, okay, now I know that must have been a _really _confusing time for you. But…like I said, as you saw, there _are _differences between boys and girls, and….and….well, like you saw, there's….uh…."

As beads of sweat poured down her burning forehead, Mac shuddered uncomfortably as he felt her hands grow cold and clammy as they held him.

"Frankie, what-" he tried to speak up again. However, she seemed utterly deaf to everything that came from his mouth as she strove furiously to continue her lecture.

"…A-and you see….while a girl….no, no that's not….while boys have…um….Mac, about once every month, I…ack! No, no! Forget I said that! That's not….wait, wait, just gimme a sec…"

While struggling to regain some shred of composure, she was now sweating more profusely in her anxiety than a four hundred-pound man in a sauna. As warm, sticky moisture drenched her arms and began to visibly soak through her sweater, Mac forced himself to suppress a violent gag as he began to actively force his way from her hold, wiggling in vain against her grip.

"C'mon, leggo! Frankie, please, _what_ are you _doing_?" the boy implored unhappily, squirming wildly in her grip.

The girl rolled her eyes exasperatedly and shot him a weary glance. "Mac, knock it off! _You_ asked me, and now I'm going to tell you _everything_." She stated determinedly.

"But all I wanted to talk to you about was-" 

"I know, I know!" Frankie snapped grumpily. "Oh Lord, don't you think I know by now?"

"Wait, hold on!" the eight-year-old gasped in shock. "You already know?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Frankie moaned miserably, spinning him around a bit on her lap so they faced each other eye-to-eye.

"Pal, if we're going to get through this, I think we need to set some things straight." She said flatly. "Now, I'm not saying I don't love you or anything, I do. But whenever I say that to you, I mean I love you _only_ as a little brother."

"Well yeah, but-" the confused boy tried to complain before he was cut off.

"And Mac, I just can't love you any more than that. Now, I have absolutely _no_ idea what else you might be feeling right now, but I need to make something clear. Any feelings stronger than that, not only is that kind of thing immoral, illegal, gross, shunned by society, utterly disgusting, but also, personally, _I_ just don't like you in that way. I mean, in the way that…that is, being attracted to you in the way of….uh…."

Mac groaned as he watched her fall apart completely, her temporary burst of assertive confidence shriveling up rapidly by the second as she struggled vainly to find the right words. For a few moments the two just stared at each other, the child glaring at her with a look of annoyed confusion, and the young woman gazing back with the blankest and most clueless of expressions, completely at a loss for words.

"…Did I already mention the differences between girls and boys?" she whimpered, fidgeting wildly with her ponytail.

Mac grimaced. "You mentioned it briefly, I think."

Frankie let out a pitiful groan of agonized frustration as she released her hold on the boy and let herself fall limply back onto her bed.

"I can't do it!" she wailed dejectedly, thumping her fists upon the mattress. "I just can't do it!"

"What? Frankie, do _what_? What' are you trying to do, anyway?" Mac demanded, his confusion now knowing absolutely no bounds. Frankie however only continued to pay little heed to his befuddled inquiries, instead choosing to throw her hands over her face in embarrassment.

"Oh, who am I kidding?" she lamented sadly, her skin changing into a vibrant tone of crimson. "Who's bright idea was it to get Miss-Can't-Get-a-Date to talk about this kind of thing?"

"Hey, would you just-" Mac tried in vain to cut in but was again only completely ignored as the girl bemoaned her existence. 

"I mean, honestly! Like Grandma and the rabbit did any better with me! The bunny showed me so many of those stupid "scientific" movie reels I wanted to puke! And Grandma! Oh, in the name of everything sacred!"

"Fra-" Mac tried once more half-heartedly. The girl just glanced up to meet his eyes briefly.

"Seriously, how can a sweet little old lady be so _graphic_? I mean c'mon! For God's sake, after Grandma and the rabbit, I still didn't understand it all until _Coco_ finally explained everything else! I had to have a bird-airplane-plant clear up the facts of life for me!"

That time, Mac couldn't even think of a response for that rather "interesting" piece of her history. The child just sat dumbly upon her lap, arms hanging limply at his sides while he gawked at her in shock.

"Um…"

"I'm a mess! A total mess!" Frankie cried hysterically, throwing her arms up in the air. "How can I talk about this kind of thing when I almost didn't understand it when I was twelve? It's hopeless, utterly hopeless!"

"Frankie-"

"HOPELESS I TELL YOU, HOPELESS!" The redhead furiously reiterated. With this one final outburst, she immediately reached over for a pillow and threw it over her face, wanting nothing more than to hide herself in her mortified shame.

For the next few minutes, the room was hurled into a deafening silence. Not a sound could be heard in the darkened atmosphere, except of course the occasional muffled groaned from the redheaded young woman as she rigorously mentally berated herself. All the while, Mac continued to sit perched upon her lap, eyes wide as dinner plates, jaw hanging limply, and an expression of the utmost puzzlement stamped on his face. Finally however, after what felt like an eternity of one of the most awkward silences he had ever experienced, the boy took a deep breath and gave the girl a soft poke to her stomach.

"F-Frankie?" he asked cautiously.

"What now?" she murmured solemnly in reply. Mac waited a few seconds until he found the right amount of courage to try and break the somber mood.

"Frankie, I said it before, but I'll say it _one _more time. _What _were you just talking about?"

The girl finally heard him, loud and clear. Immediately Frankie hurled the pillow aside and stood back up into a sitting position.

"Huh?" she inquired stupidly.

"That!" Mac continued, sticking out his tongue in disgust. "All of that, just now! I mean, what the heck was all that about? First of all, I have no idea what you were talking about! Second, what little I could figure out, that was just gross! Ew!"

Frankie scratched her head, it being her turn to be the puzzled one.

"Gross?" she repeatedly bewilderedly. The eight-year-old grimaced and rolled his eyes before continuing.

"Of course! C'mon, Frankie, why did you have to remind me of the time that I saw you in the bathroom once? That was bad enough as it was! Yuck! And I thought we agreed that we won't talk about that time I had that little crush on you!"

"We won't?" Frankie repeated again like a trained parrot.

"Yes, Frankie!" Mac yelled in frustration. "Don't you remember? It's just too weird whenever we bring it up! Ack, I still can't believe I was like that once! Blech! We're _family_! We're not…we're not…c'mon, you know we're not like _that_! It's gross! It's gross! It's gross!" he insisted furiously.

"Wait, wait….so if you don't want to…and you think that it's sick that I…and…and…hold on, so what _is_ it that you want to know?" Frankie asked wearily.

Mac sighed heavily. "Will you please just tell me how to…how to…how…" he quickly trailed off in his rapidly growing anxiety, joining in with Frankie to create stuttering in stereo.

"….Yeah?" she inquired, waiting patiently. The child blushed a little as he struggled fervently to force the words hanging on the very tip of his tongue.

"What's the best way to give a girl a valentine?" he whispered meekly.

Frankie's jaw dropped. "That's it?"

"That's it." Mac replied, squirming nervously.

"You joking?"

"No joke."

"Honest?"

"Honest."

"This valentine, it's not for _me _by any chance, is it?"

"Frankie, _no_! Quit it!" Mac spat, heavily irritated by the last question. "For the last time, that's _disgusting_! Ew!"

For the next ten seconds or so, the redhead just stared at him blankly. The boy was suddenly caught off guard though when he noticed the tears that began to well up in her eyes.

"Frankie? Are you okay?" he asked concernedly.

"Mac…" she sniffled. "You have_ no_ idea how happy you're just made me right now."

The boy squealed in horror as soon as he spotted the great fat smile that suddenly plastered itself on her face, knowing exactly what was to follow.

"Hey, no, wait, wait, wait, just hold on a s-AAACK!" Mac cried as the air was squeezed from his lungs by Frankie's crushing bear hug.

"You little troublemaker!" The redhead laughed gleefully, giving him an affectionate nuzzle. "Haha! You don't have a clue about what I've been through!"

"Stoppit! Stoppit! Stoppit! Ewwwwww!" The child yelped as he felt her plant an uncomfortably large sloppy kiss on his cheek. "Gross, Frankie!"

"A valentine!" Frankie giggled merrily, tightening her embrace. "A stupid valentine, so that was what this whole thing about! Just one stinkin' valentine! Heeheehee!"

"Okay, okay, so we all get it now!" Mac grumbled as he squirmed fiercely in a feeble attempt to escape her tenaciously loving hold. "Yes, it's just about a valentine! So can we please just-"

"So what's the problem?" Frankie asked with a chuckle, all her previous anxiety and embarrassment having been instantly swept away by the recent revelation. "So why can't you jus give Goo her valentine and leave it at that?"

"_Hey_!" Mac snapped defensively, folding his little arms in a huff. "Who said it was Goo?"

Frankie rolled her eyes "Oh, nice try there, Mac Foster, because you've done _such _a great job of hiding it. I think you should be dominated for "Best Actor" at the Oscar's, because we never suspected a thing." She joked.

Mac jabbed a finger at her as if to counteract with a fierce denial, but after seeing the triumphant sparkle in the girl's eyes, he swiftly lowered his arm and let his head sag in defeat.

"Is it that obvious?" he whimpered sadly.

Frankie laughed. "Well who else would it be? Coco?"

"But…but…but it's only because she's my friend!" the boy struggled to defend himself. "C'mon Frankie, she's so loud, wild, goofy, and I'm"

"So not like her? Pal, it's opposites that attract in life." Frankie giggled, ruffling his hair affectionately. "You little Romeo, you."

Mac groaned as he tried to bat her hand away, only to be rewarded with Frankie tightening her hold upon him.

"Forget it, just forget it! So will you help me out or not?" he murmured pleadingly. Frankie snorted in laughter as she rocked him back and forth a little.

"Pal, what's the problem here? You get some paper, scissors, a glue stick, fifteen minutes tops to make the card, you give it the girl, and poof, you're all done. How can you possibly mess _that_ up?"

"How about the last step?" Mac muttered glumly. At the look of the frustration etched upon his features, Frankie wiped the grin clean from her face and frowned a little.

"Butterflies in your stomach, huh?" she asked gently.

"How about feeling like my insides are going to turn inside out and burst whenever I think about doing it?" the boy grumbled. Frankie sighed and tousled his hair a little more.

"I'm not gonna lie, that _is _a bit of a problem right there…."

* * *

Frankie looked up from her mopping momentarily to check her wristwatch. Upon seeing how late in the afternoon it was, she groaned as she went back to her chore. If things went as normal, Goo was due to leave for home shortly, and so far she had heard no word about how her lovesick little brother had faired. She was guessing he was waiting until right before she left, or at least she hoped Mac would do it then, or else he would lose his last chance, and thus the card he worked so painstakingly hard on would have to be stored away for another year. But then again, she realized that quite possibly if he was going on that plan of action, the poor little fellow might be just setting himself up for failure. How much longer would he be able to last with the kind of heart-stopping anxiety he described? Frankie remembered the feelings she had for her childhood sweetheart fairly well, but "insides turning inside out and exploding" was definitely not one she recalled from her personal experience. 

Unfortunately, there was little else she could do but wait and see what happened. Hard as they had both tried last night, the duo had been unsuccessful in finding a way around the child's dilemma. Frankie fervently wished to help Mac in any way possible with his crush, and although she did seem to manage to make him feel more comfortable talking about the subject around her, their efforts overall had proved fruitless. How does an eight-year-old present a simple token of affection when on the inside he feels like fainting, vomiting, hysterically panicking, or some hideous combination of any of those? Love was indeed a mysterious force.

"FRANKIE!"

The excited cry quickly snapped Frankie from her aimless musing and back to reality. She looked up and immediately spotted the small brown-haired boy furiously racing towards her. Frankie grinned at first, but then her face fell as soon as she saw the red paper heart clutched tightly in one of his fists.

"Oh no, pal," she began glumly, thinking the operation had been a complete flop. "Don't tell me-"

Before she had a chance to continue, however, the broadly smiling eighty-year-old pounced forward and snagged onto her sweater sleeve tightly.

"C'mon, let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" he squealed, tiny body quivering with unbridled enthusiasm. Before the surprised redhead could comprehend what had happened, he had already yanked her along and dragged her down five hallways and two flights of stairs.

"Whoa, whoa!" she yelped, panting doggedly as she struggled to keep up the pace with the child. "Hold on a sec, hold on!"

"Can't spare a moment, we gotta move!" Mac cried, pulling her along determinedly.

"Mac, what's going on?" she yelled confusedly, trying unsuccessfully to tug her sleeve free. It was no use though, Mac was gripping onto it so tightly it was as if his hand had molded into her garment.

"No time! No time! Only when we get there!" he yelled, only picking up his already frantic pace.

In a matter of moments the child had managed to drag the twenty-two-year-old down three floors straight into the foyer. However, even then Mac never skipped a beat, pulling Frankie out with him through the front door and onto the porch.

"Okay, we're here, we're here!" he yelped happily, skidding to a halt and finally releasing his tenacious hold. Immediately Frankie leaned backwards heavily upon the nearby railing, furiously gulping down breaths of fresh air.

"What is going on here?" she gasped, struggling to refill her lungs. Mac only beamed back with possibly the largest smile she had even seen in her life.

"You know everything that we talked about?" he piped up, bouncing up and down in his excitement. "Remember, about my anxiety, and how I can really nervous when I think about giving the valentine to Goo, and I'm really scared that because of that I'm going to mess it all up when it really happens? Remember?" he babbled, as happily as could be.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Frankie replied, nodding her head furiously. "So, did you finally find anything to fix that?"

"I sure did!" he squeaked triumphantly, jabbing a finger at her. "_You_!"

"_Me_?" Frankie cried, obviously not expecting that answer. "Wait, what?"

"I can't believe I didn't think of it before! I never get as nervous when you're nearby!" Mac explained happily. "You always calm me down whenever I get upset of scared. So now it's only natural for me to be calmer with you around!"

Frankie scratched her head, confused. "Well, I guess I should be flattered, but how's that gonna help you? It's gonna suck the romance out of the moment if I'm hovering over you two when you're-"

"Wait!" Mac cut her off, darting around her legs and looking out towards the sidewalk.

"Hold on a sec, pal!" Frankie cried exasperatedly. "Just what are you-"

"Oh no, he's here already!" the boy yelped as he spotted a car park itself near the Foster's gates with a friendly honk.

"Who's here? What's going on?" the redhead almost screamed.

"Goo's ride! Her Dad's here to pick her up!" Mac explained hurriedly, shooting back to the doorway.

"Mac, what-"

"AUGH!" he yelled in fright, after taking no less than a moment's glance back inside. "She's coming down the stairs right now! She'll be here any moment!"

"Pal, you still haven't-" Frankie tried to object. Mac looked up at her, an expression of the utmost determination pressed upon his face.

"Okay, here we go!" he declared.

"What?"

"Hide! _Now_!" The boy cried, throwing herself towards her.

Now as it's well known, love can make people do strange things. It can compel one who's never played an instrument to try and create a love ballad describing their affection for someone. It could also possibly force someone who failed English as a subject pick up a pen and compose more mushy poetry then they knew the human mind was capable of creating. As stated before, love makes people do strange things.

As in the case of Mac, it drove him to push his big sister off the front porch.

"EEEK!" Frankie screeched as he rammed into her head on, tackling her spindly legs. Immediately the lanky girl completely lost her footing, and with a squeal of dismay she toppled head over heels over the railing and landed ungracefully amongst the bushes below.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry! But could you please be quiet for the next few minutes?" Mac whispered urgently.

"Blech!" Frankie spat out a mouthful of leaves and dirt. "A little warning would be nice!" she snapped angrily.

"Shh!" the boy hushed her before darting back to the doorway.

"Here we go." He whispered under, tucking his homemade card behind his back. As soon as it was hidden from view, the child could feel his heart skip a beat when the object of his affection skipped out onto the porch.

"Coming, Daddy!" she called merrily down to the waiting car with a friendly wave. "Huh? Oh, _there_ you are!" Goo cried happily upon spotting the fidgety boy nearby, flashing him her familiar milky-white toothy grin. "Whereya been? I haven't seen you for the last half-hour! Why'd you ditch us in the arcade?"

Immediately Mac could feel his knees go loose a little as beads of sweat began to trail down his forehead.

"G-Goo…." He managed to stutter out.

"What is it?" the quirky little girl asked excitedly, never still for a moment and bouncing up and down. "What is it Mac?"

The child glanced over to the porch railing nearby, where he knew his older sibling was safely concealed from view, much to her displeasure. It was working; his stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies, but he detected no wish to throw up, no yearning to making a run for it, and he hadn't keeled over yet. Just like he had guessed, all he needed was a little family support, even if it was a little forced. Still, so far, so good.

"Mac? Hey, Mac?" Goo asked curiously, her voice cutting through his thoughts like a white dove flying sailing through a cloud of black smoke. Gulping nervously, Mac tore the card from behind his back, jamming it forcibly in her direction.

"HereGooImadethisforyouhappyVlainetine'sDay!" he blurted out in one breath, immediately following it with a gasp of horror.

_Oh, great! _He thought worriedly. _You blew it! You blew it! You no-good_-

Again his thoughts were abruptly scattered into the wind as Goo let loose with wild squeal of unparalleled delight.

"IS THAT FOR ME?" she practically screamed in her excitement. Mac could feel all the blood rushing to his face, changing his skin tone into a fine crimson.

"Uh, well…" he murmured. Goo quickly tugged it from his hands and gazed over the simple handiwork happily.

"Oh, just look at it!" she cried enthusiastically. "It's so nice and frilly! And sparkly too, just lookit all the glitter! Ooooh, you even signed your name too!" she gushed.

Mac grinned weakly, tucking his hands behind his back. "Yeah, well, I just-"

Before he could get much further though, his vocal cords seemed to become paralyzed when he felt a soft wet touch delicately touch his cheek.

For a few brief seconds, he felt as if he was just rocketed into the stratosphere. Immediately all anxiety and worry was cleansed from his body, replaced by an indescribable feeling of warmth and blissful contentment. As all joints loosened up, Mac slumped over a bit as the corners of his mouth shot up into a ridiculously goofy smile.

He wished the kiss had lasted forever. It already felt like he had just lived through an eternity. Needless to say though, Goo only held the thank-you peck for only a second before tripping off down the sidewalk, waving her card triumphantly in the air.

"Byyyye, Mac!" she hollered. "Happy Valentine's Day! See ya tomorrow!"

With this final farewell she hopped into the car, and in less than a minute the vehicle had taken off down the road, disappearing from sight and leaving the boy all alone.

Actually, not _completely _alone…

"Yuck!" Frankie yelped, removing herself from her hiding place, and spewing some soil from her mouth. "Oh, gross! I think I almost swallowed a bug or two down there! Ew, ew, ew! Ugh, I think I'm going to be tasting that for a week!" She cried in disgust, wiping her tongue furiously.

When she had done what she could, she looked back up to the porch and let out a low growl as she spotted the dash of brown hair. Batting the dead leaves that lay scattered throughout her hair, she removed herself from the flora and stormed up the front stairs, grumbling murderously under her breath.

"Pushing me off the porch? When was _that_ ever a good idea?" she hissed. "Seriously, in the name of all that is holy, what on earth has gotten into you? First you're so lovestruck you're about to vomit everywhere, and _now_ you have to try and put me in the emergency room? Oooooooh, little man, you are in _so_ much trouble when I-"

As she cleared the top step, her rage was suddenly pushed aside by a feeling of the strangest curiosity. The little boy she spotted didn't look as if he had heard a word of her furious rant of only seconds before. Slightly hunched over, arms dangling by his sides, Mac just stared out dazedly into space, mouth twisted into a smile that expressed a ludicrous amount of bliss.

"Mac?" the young woman asked worriedly, getting down on one knee before him.

"Yeah?" the boy just murmured back absentmindedly, not even looking in her general direction.

"You okay?" she inquired.

"Yeah." He grunted.

"Everything go as planned?"

"Yeah."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah."

At this Frankie couldn't help but crack a smile along with him. "Really? That's great! What happened? What'd she say?" she gushed. "I couldn't exactly hear, y'know, because I-"

"Yeah." Mac just stated dumbly, staring straight ahead with half-closed eyes. Frankie cocked her head, thrown off guard by his answer.

"What? No, Mac, I asked-"

"Yeah." He just repeated like a broken record player, continuing to stare out into absolute nothingness. Frankie gazed upon the lovesick little boy for a few moments before finally bursting into laughter at the ridiculous sight.

"Let's go, Casanova." She chuckled, sweeping him up into her arms.

"Yeah." Came the automatic response. The redhead grinned, ruffling his hair affectionately.

"Happy Valentine's Day, pal." She giggled, planting a light kiss on his forehead.

"EWWW!" Someone suddenly cried out in pure disgust, thus ruining the sweet little moment.

While Mac remained contentedly unaware of the rest of reality, Frankie's head shot up as she glanced around wildly for the scream's origin.

"Huh? Who said tha-oh _no_!" she groaned upon spotting the familiar azure blob perched upon the staircase.

"You!" Bloo stated accusingly, pointing at the duo with a stubby appendage.

"Us?" Frankie asked.

"J-just look at yourselves!" the little imaginary friend continued, eyes wide with shock. "Look at yourself, and _Mac_! Oh geez, what's happened to _Mac_?"

Frankie glanced back at the child in her arms; Mac looked just as blissful an _in love_ as ever.

"Oh, God no." the young woman murmured, realizing exactly what was to become of this.

"That's not what a kid should look like when he's hugging his big sister!" Bloo wailed in horror. "That's not what he should look like at _all_!"

"Bloo, please, not _again_!" Frankie argued frantically in defense. "You don't understand! Mac just-" 

"Oh I think I understand _exactly_ what's going on here, Frankie!" The little imaginary blob replied sternly, placing his non-existent hands upon his equally non-existent hips. "Or should I say, _Mac's Valentine_?"

"No, we are not dealing with this again! I thought we made this perfectly clear before! Bloo, please, if you'll just listen to me!" the girl implored miserably, stomping her foot. "We were just-"

"You _lied_ to me!" Bloo lamented miserably. "You told me you guys weren't like "that"! And here you are, smooching on the front porch in broad daylight like there's no tomorrow!"

Frankie gritted her teeth fiercely, glaring daggers at the imaginary friend as she shook Mac a little to try and snap him out of his lovesick coma.

"Bloo, all I did was give him _one_ little kiss on the forehead! You should know better than to-"

"You two are sick, you know that? Sick, sick, _sick_!" Bloo just spat venomously, and before Frankie could counter him, he shot up the staircase like a bullet, muttering sourly under his breath.

The girl and child were left alone in the foyer, accompanied only by the dreadfully awkward silence that followed. However, as a slight snicker finally broke the quiet, Frankie growled as she glanced in the direction of a partially open door.

"My apologies," Mr. Herriman interjected with a chuckle, furry face peering out from inside his office. "But while tending to some business, I heard the commotion outside and…well, _we_ heard the commotion, you see…."

"Hello dear." Madame Foster cackled as she hobbled into sight at his feet. "Having a pleasant day, I hope? Well, at least the boy looks happy."

"Don't either of you dare say a word." Her granddaughter hissed, pointing accusingly at the grinning pair. "Not one-"

"Happy Valentine's Day, Miss Frances." Mr. Herriman blurted out. Barely suppressing their laughter, the two quickly ducked back inside the office before the fuming redhead had a chance to retaliate.

Rolling her eyes, Frankie stormed off in the direction of the kitchen, mumbling to the still stupidly grinning child tucked under her arm.

"I swear, next year I'm shoving _you_ into the pachysandra patch or something."

**The End**

* * *

Okay, to be honest,like I said, this is the first time I tried anythimg with a semblance of romance. However, more or less I think this turned into another one of my more absurd creations. 

A quick note! I'm going to be gone this weekend from the 25th to the 26th, so I won't be able to respond to any reviews until Sunday night or Monday.

Anyway, thanks for reading, everyone!

Please review!

(One last thing, though. Like I said before, Wishing Only Wounds the Heart has not been abandoned or anything, it's just taking lucyrocks73 and I a little longer than expected with the next few chapters. We'll update, with both just have an unpleasant amount of schoolwork to take care of first. I was just lucky enough to have some spare time to write this story here.)

-Dude13


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